Here’s the college admission essay that I wrote as a senior in high school. Reading it now, I don’t know how I got in anywhere.

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When I sat down to consider a great passion of mine that has contributed to my personal growth, only one thing came to mind: milk. I have devoted a few minutes of each day of my life to consuming it, and I plan to continue consuming it in the future. I am a more personally grown person because of it, and in more ways than one. A man once said, “A man without passion is a man without bones.” I have both passion and bones, and because of my passion, my bones are strong.

I have drunk milk nearly every day of my life. During the first few weeks of life, it was my only passion. Since then I’ve picked up a few others, but it still floats around my top ten. At the age of seven, I was told drinking four cups a day would help me grow big and tall. I just wanted to be tall and not big, so I only drank the second two. I’m now 6’2” and still downing two cups of two percent a day.* As much as I love milk, I’m insulted by folks out there drinking skim. They’re missing the true glory of milk by choking down its weaker, less tasty cousin. It bothers me, and I’ll tell you why with an anecdote.

As a young, strapping chap no older than five, I was deprived. My mother had been serving me skim milk my whole life. I loved it, yet my horizons remained narrow. Ignorant and misguided, I drank the transparent milk without a complaint. Until one day, my grandpa came to our home. We all sat down to a simple breakfast of cereal with milk. My mother was aware of this man’s intolerance for sub-par milk. Realizing her situation, my mother made a desperate attempt to try and fool him with the old half-and-half/skim concoction. Needless to say, he wasn’t fooled. He was disturbed by this deliberate denial of decent milk. I was confused by the whole situation. Grandpa took me to the store and purchased the whiter, less watery milk that is two percent. I drank, I loved, I cried, and I’ve never gone back.**

Milk’s nutritional value is irrefutable. The calcium it provides is necessary to healthy bones and teeth. Everything about milk is splendid! It’s so fluid and white. The container is so nicely shaped, with the potential to become an instrument or decorative ornament.*** I often dream about a mountain stream of milk. Cute baby animals would come to drink from its healthy, delicious bounty. People could swim in it, go white milk rafting, and even make cheese, milk popsicles, or yogurt. The possibilities are endless! It’s simply spectacular all around. It’s the Lehigh of dairy.

If Lehigh were the wholesome, life-giving milk, I would be the chocolate syrup added to the milk. I’m sweet, smooth, flavorsome, and could be stored in a refrigerator. I am impressed with the school and would love to study and grow there. The school has a superb reputation, and wonderful programs. At Lehigh, I could follow some of my passions, and grow as a person. I am always anxious to expand my horizons, learn new things, drink better milk, etc. So stir me in for eight to ten seconds, and consider me as a candidate for Lehigh University.****

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* I just measured myself and am now about 6′ 1 and 3/4″. Must have shrunk.

** True story.

*** You learn this in Cub Scouts.

**** I sent this same essay to every school I applied to, but just changed the school’s name. Don’t feel special Lehigh.

The fresh scent of February brought only one thought to my mind in the form of my mother screeching through the phone – “You need to get an internship this summer. Like a real one.” As a self-described rock star with no marketable skills, I had the cards stacked against me. But through a little creative margin fudging and lying, I managed to turn three lines into a full resume.

The next hurdle I faced was what is known as the “cover letter.” For one, I had no idea what it was. Two, it struck me as a royal pain in the ass. Because I was simply prostituting myself out by applying to every single internship available on Lehigh’s career services website without discretion or standards, the specific cover letter writing would make the process even more unbearable. So I decided to write a versatile, generic cover letter that I could send to all companies ranging from CollegeHumor to Douche Bank.

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To Whom It May Concern:

Let’s cut to the chase. I love your company. Rather than brown nose you any further, here is a short description of my work experiences.

For the past three years, I have been a work study in the Dean’s Office of the business school. Most of my time is spent talking to my three female superiors about their grandchildren and the current humidity of the air in the office. They often bake me things and give me their sons’ old pants.

This past summer I worked as a manager of a team of advertising sales representatives. Throughout the summer, I got kicked out of three stores, got five girls’ numbers, was given over $80 of free chicken, and learned a swear word in Thai. Kee nok. It means “bird shit.”

The summer before last, I got an offer to be a supply chain intern. I blindly accepted to work directly under a hefty woman who wore a mouth guard. Other than her resemblance to John Goodman, all I remember is that Facebook was a restricted website on the company’s network.

Me preparing for a backflip.

During the same summer but before that offer, I was serving as a lowly accounting intern at a small wellness company. What you may not be able to extract from my resume is that I was the creator of the only company-wide game of Survivor: BeBetter Working Edition. While both fun and mildly confusing, the game ended abruptly when the first tribal council coincidentally coincided with the firing of the CFO. Unfortunately for him, I had the Cup of Immunity.

The summer before, I was a warehouse laborer in a petroleum supplier warehouse. It mostly involved fork truck races, listening to “Hey There Delilah,” and building forts out of oil buckets. My closest friends were Ramon the Innocent Sixty Year Old Immigrant with an Inhuman Sex Drive, TJ the Gangster Who Showed Me His Gun, and Frank. My most memorable and disturbing moment was when Ramon explained to me in his Spanish accent what a golden shower is.

During high school summers, I worked as a bus boy and cook in a breakfast-lunch restaurant called First Watch. It is well known in West Virginia as the largest employer of both high school students and drug dealers. It was during this time I was first hit on by an old man, stunting my puberty for six months.

My next job will hopefully be at your company, where I can do all of the responsibilities listed in the application.